


Bought and Sold (and Broken Apart)

by NotFlyingWithOtters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Doctor Castiel, Just the Winchesters and Cas mostly, M/M, Most characters are minor, Prostitute Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotFlyingWithOtters/pseuds/NotFlyingWithOtters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The next time Dean ended up in the emergency room, it was due to forcible, and potentially dubious, sex. His ribs were aching still – it had only been three weeks since they got cracked – and his insides burned. He was stubborn in such a way that he would not admit to the nurses what had happened. He just wanted to be checked out by a medical professional because there was something that was most likely blood in his underwear, and that wasn’t okay. His name this time was “Joe Perry”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bought and Sold (and Broken Apart)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful Colieduck

Dean dropped to his knees in front of the other man, his hand already on the belt of the black jeans that were filling his line of vision. He carefully unbuckled it and slipped the garment down the legs of the man who’d identified himself as ‘Zachariah’. Whether that was his real name or not he would probably never find out, nor would he want to. The man’s hand in his hair was tight, painful, nails digging into the soft skin at the base of his neck. He managed to block it out, ignore the drag of the nails towards the top of his spine and concentrate on what he was doing. Hopefully there was money in this; it was the only reason he would consent to doing this in a dirty alleyway behind a bar.

It took about fifteen minutes before it was over, Dean’s jaw aching and his mouth tasting foul. He went to stand and was pushed down, his eyes suddenly dropping to the ground. The first blow he expected and he just took it, letting his body hit the asphalt. This time it was hospital worthy, he’d felt a boot connect with his ribs and it crack beneath the treads. When the man had left and he was sure he was safe, Dean carefully stood up and took some slow steps towards the nearest emergency room. He needed to get them set before any more damage was done.

* * *

Castiel Novak, MD., was the doctor on call in the particular emergency room that Dean found himself in. The dark haired man gently probed his ribs and checked his vitals, his tired blue eyes flicking over his face as he wrote a few words down on a pad. Dean had given his name as “Kris Warren” to the nurse who’d asked; and for once he didn’t even glance down at her chest either, a little too tired to even get aroused by it.

“Mr Warren, you need to take some time to rest up, get some sleep and recover. I’ve prescribed you painkillers, fill that at the desk on your way out.” Castiel rubbed his eyes with his palm and looked down at him. “You’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

“Sure.” Dean winced, his livelihood paid well, but not even that would stretch to six weeks. He just had to hope that after two weeks the ribs would be healed enough for him to go about his business and not feel any pain by it. “Thanks.” He slipped off of the bed and winced as he landed on his feet, his ribs on fire beneath the tight white bandage that his grey shirt concealed well. Dean spared barely even a thought for the doctor as he left the hospital, collecting the pain medication on his way out.

* * *

The next time Dean ended up in the emergency room, it was due to forcible, and potentially dubious, sex. His ribs were aching still – it had only been three weeks since they got cracked – and his insides burned. He was stubborn in such a way that he would not admit to the nurses what had happened. He just wanted to be checked out by a medical professional because there was something that was most likely blood in his underwear, and that wasn’t okay. His name this time was “Joe Perry”.

“So, Mr Perry…” _Crap._ The doctor that walked into the curtained off cubicle was the same one that had seen him for his ribs. Dean hoped he didn’t recognise him. Castiel looked over at him and almost did a double take, using all of his professionalism to not drop his clipboard. They stared at one another for a moment, Castiel wondering what to say or do, and Dean like a rabbit trapped in the headlights. “Or Mr Warren…?” Castiel’s voice faltered. “Which is your real name?” Dean swallowed thickly, considering lying. But if, by some remarkable chance (or maybe God just hated him – he was a prostitute after all) he ended up back in the ER with the same doctor; he would be in more trouble.

“Neither.” He shifted on the padding of the bed, not wanting to stain it with his blood. “My name’s Dean Winchester.” He looked over at Dr. Novak, reading his name badge. He shifted over again, a little more agitated than before. “But my name isn’t important, I just want to be checked, that’s all.” He fiddled with his shirt as Castiel nodded, pulling on some latex gloves.

“Lie on your side.” Castiel’s voice was gentle, encouraging, and Dean slowly removed his belt and jeans before weakly tugging his boxers down. Castiel, entirely professional, began investigating the small tear inside of Dean, carefully disinfecting it and the moving away. “There.” A hint of a smile graced his features and he touched Dean’s shoulder with a degloved hand. “You can go. But keep clean, alright Dean?”

“Thank you.” Dean nodded and stood up, wincing. As he left, Castiel watched him go, wondering if Dean was okay or if he was just unlucky. He binned the gloves and returned to his rounds, hoping he wouldn’t see Dean again.

* * *

The next time Castiel saw Dean was a month after that, and he kept returning with frightening frequency. Sometimes when he wasn’t on rounds, a nurse would talk about the attractive guy in the leather jacket that came in – shame about the cuts or the bruises. Castiel kept a slow burning worry in the back of his mind about the man that kept getting hurt, wondering how that kept happening. After six months of not seeing Dean, Castiel had finally removed the worry from his mind. He continued on his rounds when he saw him again, Dean. He was limping a little, his face bruised. He caught Castiel’s eye, shivering a little. Castiel saw him mouth his name, saw him ask for him. So he went to him, his clipboard placed back in his box as he approached him.

“Dean, it’s been a while. I assumed you were okay?” Dean nodded a little, but his face was bruised and bloody.

“You’d think.” He replied to him, leaning against the wall. “I was. Can you… Help me?”

“Of course, follow me.” Cas made to turn but Dean was still standing there, staring. “What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, gentle; Dean almost cringed from it though, resting his hands on the wall.

“You’ve seen me enough, Dr. Novak. I don’t want to be… Not here. Too many people have seen me here.” Castiel paused and looked at his watch.

“Can you hang on for ten minutes?” He was going to hate himself for this later, but Dean did need him, and it pained his heart to see him this way. “I get off then.” He touched Dean’s shoulder gently and the other man flinched.

“I can wait. Where should I wait?” Dean’s voice was also gentle, and he flicked his gaze up to Castiel’s.

“Just here, I’ll be with you soon.” He turned and went back to his work, returning to Dean’s side just over ten minutes later with a battered beige trench coat on and his bag over one shoulder. “I feel I might regret this later, but are you alright to walk a few blocks? I know you don’t want to be treated here, and I have a first aid kit at home.”

“I don’t even know your first name.” Dean said quietly, suddenly wondering why that was a problem now, when most of the people he slept with for money didn’t ever give him a name – let alone one that was real.

“Castiel.” He looked over at Dean with a small smile, awaiting the inevitable laughter that never actually came; though Dean did look a little confused. “I have religious parents. I’m not for that so much myself, being a doctor you see everything that can happen and it can be heart-breaking; but they are. All my siblings are named from the Bible.”

“I thought it was only people like me who lose faith in humanity.” He said to himself, not noticing that Castiel had heard. “Why do you care about me so much?” He asked suddenly, almost tripping over his own feet before Castiel caught him and held him up. “I mean, most doctors don’t give two craps about me. What makes you different?”

“Because you consistently come in, in various states of disarray, and I’m worried about you.” They turned a corner and Castiel felt Dean lean heavily on him as he unlocked the door, a warm rush of air enveloping them as they stepped inside. Castiel lived in a ground floor apartment of a small building, it was large enough for him and that was good enough. He helped Dean in; the man was shivering a little from the cutting wind outside, and led him into the small bathroom where he kept his first aid kit.  “Okay, Dean, can you show me what you’ve done to yourself this time?” Dean nodded.

“Sure. Just no judgement alright? I can’t take that type of bullshit without wanting to kill something.”

“I’m a doctor, it’s not my place to judge others.” The hinting at Dean’s more violent side made Castiel a little worried about him, but he swallowed that down as the other man began to undress, revealing a purpled spread of flesh on his ribs, and swelling on his knee. Grazes ran up his arms and there was quite a deep cut on his thigh, Castiel surmised it was the reason he was limping, and it looked painful.

“Cas?” Nobody had shortened his name before beside his recently ex-girlfriend Meg, and to hear that fall from the lips of another made his heart stutter.

“Sorry.” Cas knelt in front of him and carefully dabbed at the wound with a sterile cloth. “This is going to hurt.” No point sugar coating it, Dean was injured and to fix it would hurt. He gently probed it and then unwrapped a gauze pad, placing it on the side of the bath. “Deep breath in, please.” Cas placed the cool wipe on his leg, disinfecting it as best he could. Dean inhaled sharply, gripping onto Cas’ shoulder without thinking.

“God dammit Cas.” He whispered through his teeth, trying to ignore how strange it felt to have someone between _his_ legs for once.

“I’m sorry, just be grateful you don’t need stitches.” He placed the pad of gauze against the wound and carefully bound it to him with a soft bandage, pausing to make sure it was completely secure before standing up. Cas looked over at Dean, and for a fleeting moment he saw something in his eyes. Something he recognised from his years doing the graveyard shift at the ER. It was a look a lot of women who sold their bodies had, as if something behind their eyes was causing them physical pain, something they didn’t want to speak about. In that moment, Cas realised that what he’d been seeing over the past year was Dean’s prostitution being bad for his health, causing him serious pain and damage. All this flashed through his mind in an instant, and he forced himself to ignore the low thrum of arousal that had been building since he had been in the situation between Dean’s legs. If he took advantage, Dean might run. If something did happen between them… Cas could lose his license for soliciting with iniquitous people that he held a duty of care over.

“You got any beer in this joint?” Dean’s voice cut through his thoughts, effectively ending his internal dilemma.

“Fridge, bottom shelf.” Cas followed him, only now allowing himself to remove the blue tie from around his neck. As his fingers reached for it, another set of hands landed atop his. Dean’s eyes were glittering in the low light.

“Figured I owe you one.” Dean murmured, pulling Cas closer by the strip of fabric around his neck. “Can’t expect a doctor to fix me up for nothing, can I? Nothing’s free nowadays right?” There was a bitterness to his tone, and Cas fixed his eyes on Dean’s mouth, trying to figure out what he was going to say and do next.

“Dean you owe me nothing.”

“I owe you for the beer, for the care. I owe you a lot, Cas.” Dean’s voice was honey soft, making Cas’ knees go weak. “My bet’s on that you want me. And hey, I ain’t complaining, I want you too. Tonight you can have me, do what you like to me. Because here’s my secret…” There was a pause, and Cas’ throat tightened a little in anticipation. “I’m just a whore.” Cas wanted to tell him that he wasn’t just a whore, that Cas never took pity on whores because they had chosen this life. There was something inherently good about Dean, but Cas never got the chance to say that. Dean’s lips covered his and he was pushed back against the wall, his hands scrabbling for purchase in Dean’s soft hair. Dean’s lips were chapped and warm, and Cas melted to the touch, his hand sliding under the buttons of the shirt that was suddenly clinging too much to the taller man.

“Bedroom…” Cas’ voice trembled a little. “This way.” Taking Dean’s hand, he pulled him into the bedroom and kissed him again, this time allowing the other man control. Dean was wicked with his tongue, teasing Cas’ lips open expertly and using his teeth to create a slow drag of arousal through Cas’ receptive body.

“Do you have anything? Condoms, lube, that kind of thing?” Cas nodded frantically and rested his forehead against Dean’s for a short moment, a fleeting second of tenderness amongst the harsh reality of what they were doing.

“First drawer of the dresser.” He whispered, unbuttoning Dean’s shirt and running his hands gently over the bruised flesh and sore skin, his fingertips tracing the outline of his ribs. Dean instantly became pliant, as if it was what he had known so much of one thing, that to be anything other than what people expected of a whore was wrong. Cas found himself kissing and nipping tenderly at the soft skin of Dean’s neck, fingers trailing down his sides.

“How do you want me?” Dean’s hands wound themselves into Cas’ shirt and he slowly pulled him closer, completely pressed against one another. Cas faltered for a moment and then nosed against him soothingly.

“Inside me.” He whispered. Dean froze.

“Normally people use me as something to put their dick in. Not the other way round.”

“I’m not like most people, Dean.” Cas leaned and kissed his jaw lightly, before lying on his front, tanned body laid out for Dean to enjoy. Dean nodded and regarded him carefully, running a hand down Cas’ spine.

“No.” He agreed quietly, kneeling between his legs. “No I guess not.” He lightly squeezed Cas’ hand where it was lying on the covers and then retrieved both a condom and the small plastic tube of water based lubricant. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of him when he was bottoming, but in his heart he felt a tug and knew that he had to be gentle. “Okay, Cas.” He said gently, kissing his shoulder. “Relax.”

“I know.” Cas replied, spreading his legs a little wider at Dean’s insistence. Dean squirted a small amount onto his fingers and coated one thoroughly, trailing more around Cas’ tight opening before even attempting to push in. After the initial resistance, Cas’ body opened to him and Dean managed to ease in, slowly opening him.

“That okay for you, Cas?” Cas nodded and Dean took that cue to slowly ease another finger inside of him, spreading him gently. Cas whimpered a little but he took it, spreading his legs wider and wider for him. His hands gripped the duvet and Dean nosed a gentle kiss against his shoulder.  “Y’alright?” He asked him softly again, running his fingers over his spine.

“Yes, yes I’m fine.” Cas looked over at him and caught his lips with his own, stroking his cheek before kneeling up a bit more. “I can take this.” He smiled a bit, face flushed in the darkness. Dean nodded and eased a third finger in, teasing him open and spreading his fingers inside. After Cas had adjusted, Dean reached for a condom and carefully tore it open.

“I’m clean, in case you were wondering.” Dean told him quietly, but he slowly rolled the condom on and coated his erection in lubricant before pushing inside. Cas whimpered a little and lowered his head, feeling Dean in every fibre of his being. Dean was gentle and kind, the slow roll of his hips building the pressure in a way that he hadn’t felt for years.

“Dean…” Cas’ voice stuttered out and he dropped his head against the pillows, panting desperately.

“It’s okay baby.” Dean whispered against his shoulder and rolled his hips again, this time angling it just so it hit his prostate dead on, making Cas whimper and mewl in desperation. Dean seemed to know what he wanted, what he needed, and he flipped him onto his back so that he could see him. He smiled down at him almost sadly, something in Cas’ eyes registered in his soul and it was something he couldn’t cope with – because what was there was _love_. Dean hadn’t felt love of any kind since he was seventeen, almost twenty years ago. He lowered his head so that he wasn’t looking at Cas, and thrust hard into him, making Cas’ eyes drop shut.

“Dean, oh… Dean…” He whispered against his neck, rocking his hips up into Dean, forcing him deeper inside him. Dean caught his lips. He didn’t want to hear any other words from his mouth, just in case something he became frightened of fell from his kissable lips. Dean felt Cas clench around him and warm come streak his chest before he too was coming into the condom, collapsing on top of Cas’ chest.

“Stay still.” Dean told him softly, pulling out and peeling the condom off. Cas nodded, his face and chest flushed. Dean was careful in binning the condom, padding into the bathroom for a flannel and returning to wipe Cas clean. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine.” Cas lay back on the bed and reached for Dean, pulling him closer. “I worried about you every time you came in.” Cas told him gingerly, stroking the soft hair back from his face.

“Why?” Dean was instantly defensive, once someone started worrying things got bad.

“Because you get hurt all the time.” Cas told him mildly. “And you just admitted to me that you’re a prostitute which, despite being horribly illegal, has health implications.” Cas ran his fingers over his side, but Dean was frozen in terror.

“Is that why you let me into your house?” He was being irrational, he knew that. “Did you have your suspicions and want to try me out like everyone else?” Cas looked horrified.

“No! Dean!” But Dean was too far gone, too panicked.

“Is that what you wanted from me? Just a cheap thrill? That I’d be so damn grateful to you that I’d let you fuck me into the mattress? C’mon Cas!” Cas went to touch his shoulder but Dean pulled away. “No, Cas! No!”

“Dean!” Cas lunged for him, but then Dean’s face registered blank panic and he grabbed his clothes, trembling.

“Don’t touch me, Cas.” Dean dressed quickly and ran out, Cas trying to follow him but Dean was a fast runner, and he hadn’t given Cas a chance to get dressed. Cas closed the door and rested his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. As he stepped back inside the bedroom, reeking heavily of sex, a glint of gold caught his eye and he dropped to his knees to pick it up. It was a black cord with a bronze pendant on it, a strange tribal-like face. He picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. When he saw Dean again, as it was inevitable he would get hurt and return to the ER, he would give it back to him and try to make it better.

* * *

Cas didn’t see Dean for six months. He even worked every weekend and night he could, but no one else saw him either. There was no more gossip from the nurses about the attractive man in the leather jacket that came in with multiple injuries. In fact, Cas had almost forgotten about Dean until he was on call one night, and he was roused from his sleep by the shrill sound of the phone.

“Dr. Novak.” He mumbled sleepily.

“No one else is on call tonight, Castiel. There’s a man that’s come in that needs a doctor, badly.” Cas took a few moments to wake up fully.

“Of course, ten minutes.” There was a sound of assurance on the other end of the phone and he quickly dressed, heading back into the hospital. He arrived at the entrance to the ER and headed inside, looking over at the desk. “Anna, hey, I got called in. Where am I needed?” The slim red head nodded and smiled, though there was sadness in her eyes.

“Resus room.” He nodded and headed over there, rubbing his eyes. It took him a minute to talk there, and in that minute he became alert and ready. As he stepped through the door, a horrible sight met his eyes. Dean was lying on the gurney, weakly scrabbling for the nurses hand as she tried to cut his shirt off.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice was soft and he stepped towards him, reaching the bed in a moment. “Do you know where you are?” Dean’s face was bloodied, his side was just a mass of bruises and his breath was wheezing. He nodded, tears glittering in the corners of his eyes.

“Cas!” His voice broke and he coughed, gripping the doctor’s sleeve tightly in his hand. Cas nodded and pushed him back against the bed.

“Let us help you.” He told him softly, standing beside Ruby and carefully peeling the blood soaked shirt off of Dean’s side. His face paled a little at the damage he was seeing. “Call Doctor Balthazar, we need a surgeon. I suspect internal bleeding. Talk to Gabe in MRI so we can check but we need to do something now.” Ruby nodded and hurried to the phone in the corner of the room, making all the necessary calls.

“Cas.” Dean’s voice was rasping in his chest now, and Cas stepped towards him again, touching his wrist.

“Don’t wear yourself out. Is there anyone I can call for you?” Dean nodded and scrabbled in the pocket of his jeans for his wallet.

“My brother. Call Sammy.” Dean managed out, gripping Cas’ hand tightly. Cas nodded and flipped through his wallet until he found a picture of a young Dean besides a taller, yet clearly younger boy, that must be his brother. He carefully flipped it over and looked at the number, committing it to memory.

“I’ll call him Dean I promise.” Dean nodded and then dropped back against the pillows, chest heaving.

“Cas.” His voice was a soft plea, and it was then that Cas noticed that his vitals were falling. Dean was crashing. He looked wildly around the room and placed his hand on Dean’s wrist.

“Stay with me Dean okay, stay here. Just a few minutes. You’ll be okay Dean, come on.” He took a slow breath in and ran his fingers across his forearm. “Breathe.” Dean was faltering under his hands, failing in his care. “Dean!” Dean’s eyes fell shut and he placed two fingers on his neck, letting the pulse beat under his fingertips. It was weak and thread, but it was there. Ruby came back into the room and Cas, his cool head clicking in, relayed instructions. It was only when Dean was whisked down to the OR that Cas allowed himself to break.

* * *

It took him fifteen minutes to calm himself down from that and find a phone to call the brother that Dean had been so desperate for him to get in contact with.

“Hello?” The voice was soft, younger than he’d imagined.

“Hello, Sam Winchester?” Cas’ voice shook a little then.

“Yeah that’s me… Sorry, can I help?”

“It’s Doctor Novak from Lawrence Hospital; it’s about your brother.” There was the sound of an intake of breath on the other end of the phone.

“What’s happened to him? Normally it’s the police but it’s never the hospital. Dean doesn’t get sick.” Cas detected a note of panic.

“I think you should come down here. He’s in surgery at the moment; I can brief you on his condition in person.” There was a silence, then the sound of Sam calling out to a girl called Jess and then there was the sound of a door slamming.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The phone clicked off and Cas went to wash his hands, wash Dean’s blood from his palms.

* * *

Cas met Sam Winchester in the foyer of the hospital. The man was tall, longish hair curling around his jaw and a worried expression on his face.

“Doctor Novak?” Cas nodded and extended a hand to him, shaking it nervously. “Where’s Dean?” The affection the man had for his brother was clear, and Cas felt his heart twist.

“Sam, I suppose. Come through.” Cas lead Sam down a warren of corridors until they reached the operating room where Dean was. “Dean… came into the ER in a bad state. I suspected internal bleeding, and he crashed in my care.” Sam bit down hard on his lower lip.

“How is he?” Sam looked at the screen doors desperately.

“He… Sam how long as it been since you saw your brother?” He remembered the photo in his wallet, how old it was but also how much Dean looked after it.

“Six years.” He bit his lower lip again. “He ran away when he was seventeen and I was fourteen.” Cas’ heart lurched, he felt like he should tell Sam about what happened, what his brother had been doing for the years he hadn’t seen him.

“He’s in bad shape, Sam.” He said softly, looking over at the man sat next to him, staring at his hands. “He crashed, and he was taken to the OR before I could find out his condition.” Sam looked over at him for a moment.

“You seem to care about him a lot, Doctor Novak.” Sam blurted out suddenly, turning his gaze from his hands to Cas’ face.

“Sam, I don’t know what you’re saying. I have a duty of care over your brother.” Sam shook his head and looked over at Cas carefully.

“Dean doesn’t have friends.” Cas looked down at his hands. “And… I know that he’s been alone.” Cas winced.

“Dean... has been in and out of the emergency room this past year and a half. I know it’s not my place, but are you aware of how he’s getting his income?”

“Hustling pool? That’s how he used to get by.” Cas looked across at Sam.

“Your brother is selling his body.” Cas looked over at him, and Sam’s face had fallen a little.

“I always assumed he’d be smart…” Sam scrubbed a hand over his face a little. “But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that he’s okay.” Cas thought Sam was taking this very diplomatically, and he slowly stood.

“As soon as I know if something has changed, I’ll let you know.” He said softly, squeezing Sam’s shoulder. “I don’t recommend the coffee from the machine, but the stuff in the canteen isn’t so bad.” He fingered the black cord of the necklace Dean had left at his apartment as he left Sam to follow the signs to the canteen. He made his way to the OR observation room and looked down at where Balthazar, the only on call surgeon, was doing his best to fix Dean up. Cas watched over him.

* * *

It took three hours to stop the bleeding in Dean’s chest cavity – he’d been beaten badly, so much so that his ribs had cracked and punctured a lung. There had also been signs of sexual assault, and Cas didn’t want to think about it. Dean had slipped into a coma due to complications in the surgery, and it was Cas who constantly came by and checked on him.

The younger Winchester brother and he became friends in their shared worry over Dean, and Sam arrived dutifully at the hospital at every visiting hour. Sometimes he brought his girlfriend with him, a pretty blond girl named Jess, and they would sit with Dean until Cas dropped by on his break and came to sit with them. When Sam and Jess left and Cas finished his rounds, he would just go and sit with him. Even when he was off duty he would drop by and sit with him, even if it was only for five minutes.

A week after the surgery, just after Cas had finished his rounds, his pager beeped at him to go to Dean’s room. He hurried there, worried something had happened. He padded inside and a smile spread across his face at the sight of Dean, weak and shaking, but definitely awake.

“Hey Cas.” Cas walked to his bedside and gently squeezed his hand.

“How are you feeling?” Dean shrugged tiredly.

“Has Sammy been here?” Cas nodded and felt a little foolish.

“I called him. He’s been here every day, Dean.” Dean nodded and his hand went to touch his neck, and then fell away again almost instantly. Cas thought for a moment and then withdrew the necklace from his pocket. “Is this what you wanted? You left it at mine.” Cas ignored the look Dean was giving him, simply placing the necklace into his hand and standing. “Sam will be here soon, I’ll leave you to it.” The smile that had graced his face was gone now, and he took a few steps backwards, turning on his heel and ending up in the break room. When he was certain that visiting hours were over and Dean would be alone, he made his way back to his room. Only… Only it was empty. He guessed Sam checked Dean out, there was nothing wrong that wouldn’t fix on its own (and the doctor in charge of his case had said that when he woke he could go home) so Cas returned to his locker to pick up his coat.

The walk back to his apartment was cold, even with the coat, and he kept his head down against the chill wind that had sprung up. He reached his apartment and looked down as he fiddled with his keys, almost falling over when he saw that Dean was sat on his doorstep.

“Dean! What are you doing here?” Cas’ voice was soft and gentle and he knelt down beside Dean. “It’s dangerous for you to be out here alone, you’re injured.” Dean nodded.

“I had to see you Cas. I bolted when I got the chance; I only got this far though.” Cas placed his hand on Dean’s knee.

“Come inside.” Dean’s face lit up.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Cas extended a hand that Dean gratefully took, and he helped him inside. Cas smiled a little and lead him to the kitchen, boiling the kettle.

“How long where you out there?” Cas kept his voice soft as he made them both coffee, encouraging Dean to drink it and warm up.

“A couple hours.” Dean shrugged and sipped the coffee, looking over at Cas. “Thank you for this.” He said quietly, fingering the necklace. Cas shrugged.

“You left it here; I kept it for making amends.” He smiled and looked down at his hands, his mouth turned down at the corners slightly despite the grin.

“Thanks… Sammy gave it to me one Christmas, I almost panicked when I lost it.” Cas touched his hand gently and Dean looked up at him. “I owe you one man.” Cas nodded again and he took his hand.

“I’m sorry we fought, Dean. I meant it when I said that I’m not like other people.” Dean looked up at him, his eyes glittering with something that looked like, but also hope. Cas touched his hand and Dean smiled again.

“Cas, I was thinking, I got mad and I shouldn’t.” Cas looked up at Dean, and after a moment of silence, Dean leaned forwards and kissed him. Cas’ hands went to tangle in his hair and he trailed his fingers down his sides.

* * *

Cas lay awake into that night, tracing the contours of Dean’s body by moonlight. His skin was a dusky white, sparkling now. He smiled as Dean shuffled a little closer to him, drawn to his warmth like a moth to a flame. He kissed his shoulder, watching as Dean’s muscles rippled. They hadn’t had sex that night, nothing like that had happened because Dean hadn’t wanted it, and Cas hadn’t pushed him. They lay together in Cas’ bed, Cas awake and whispering promises to him until morning ticked over.

“You don’t have to sell yourself any more.” He whispered to him, stroking his shoulders with his fingertips. “You can stay here with me.” At those words, Dean rolled over and looked at him, green eyes glinting in the silvered moonlight.

“Thanks.” He whispered to Cas, dropping a tender kiss to his lips. Cas smiled, having Dean safe and happy was what he cared about.


End file.
